A Raven With an Olive Branch
by Arda-Xanth
Summary: At the end of OotP, Luna is looking for the things people have taken. Here we see what it might be like if Luna starts asking Draco about it.


**A Raven With an Olive Branch**

A/N: This is a one-shot, unless someone wants me to continue.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the story itself.

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Near the end of her fifth year, Luna Lovegood was wandering over the school grounds, glancing down at the list held loosely in her hand. She stopped a moment to flip through the notepad; the page she brought to the top was blank except for where, in burgundy ink, were the words: _The Quibbler_, followed by the address to send owls to the office, and one for the editor.

Luna turned the pages back, swiftly looking over the list of her lost possesions, and then licked her index finger, bringing a new list to the front of the notepad. Her pale eyes scanned the list, reading the names of those who she believed might have taken her things. It saddened her, just barely, that it was not only Slytherins gracing the sheet of paper, but members of the supposedly noble house of Gryffindor, and her own house. Hufflepuffs, who considered themselves above such acts, still avoided her as if they might contract insanity.

Taking a bracing breath, she decided to halt in her search, knowing just about everything would be given back eventually. It was just that this time, someone stole items of great importance to her. It didn't bother her so much if she lost a comb, one of her robes or a unique pair of earrings; she usually brought extras of those in case they were needed. Some things could not be replaced though, and right now a malevolent stranger had them.

Upon reaching the conclusion that she would wait, Luna began walking to her favorite place in all of Hogwarts, besides the Forbidden Forest. At the lake's edge, near the Whomping Willow, was a thick sward of cattails, reeds, snap dragons and overgrown grass. There was a narrow space in front of the Willow that was screened by the vegetation, so if a person was sitting there, no one could see them unless they stood very close and were looking in the exact spot.

Pulling the plants aside, she carefully stepped down the steep bank, placing her feet in the deep gouges she had carved by coming down so often. She almost had her tote on the ground by the time she noticed another person there, his legs drawn to his chest with his wrists crossed casually on his knees. His head was bowed almost as he gazed at the water, but there was no mistaking his identity.

She had never known Draco Malfoy to be so serious, or, that is to say, pensive.

"Draco?" Luna asked in confusion. She always referred to everyone by their first name, even the teachers, until they forced her to stop. Draco apparently did not notice her, no matter what she called him.

"Draco?" she repeated a little more loudly, touching his shoulder lightly. He jumped and faced her. Sneering while fixing a piece of his blanched blonde hair that had fallen before his eyes, he demanded "What do you want, Looney?"

Her visage was so impassive at the cruel nickname that Draco might have admired her, if he was the sort to admire anyone but himself and his ilk. Casting a hasty glance to her notes, she saw that he was first on her list, and said "I was just wondering if you know where any of my stuff is? I've got a list."

Luna extended the hand holding it very close to his face until he actually leaned back, his palms pressing the earth to catch himself. Annoyed, he snapped "Will you get the bloody thing away from me?"

She nodded apologetically and sat down beside him, putting her bag next to him with the jangle of many key chains, several of them somehow associated with the Muggle world, which Luna had recently become curious over. Watching her sidelong, he asked "You mind going away?"

"I come here everyday. You may leave if you want to," she answered, nonplused at his tone, "but you never told me."

He smirked and refused to give her a response, but the suddenly arrogant gleam to his eyes and his stance revealed that he probably did have at least some of the objects in the list. Losing her sang froid, Luna pleaded "Draco, please? That's one of my only photos of my mother."

"I didn't say I have that, or any of it, Looney."

"So you don't...?"

Draco shrugged, his lips curving into a mocking smile. His long fingers commenced tapping a quick staccato on his right leg, now that they were stretched out. He resumed his perusal of the lake, dismissing her questions.

It was too much to be calm about, so near to the anniversary of her mother's death. In an uncharacteristic display of bitterness, Luna spoke icily "I imagine you know how it is, with you father in Azkaban, after all."

For a moment, his expression was absolutely blank with shock, but then angry blotches of florid color appeared on his high cheeks, all the more prevalent for his paleness. Standing up with his fists balled at his sides, nearly shaking with rage, he called her the most demeaning insults that came to mind, other than 'mudblood', which she was not.

Luna was seemingly unfazed at the barrage, watching him intently with her eerie eyes. She didn't even flinch when Draco stormed up to her, his fingers twitching as though he desired nothing more than to slap her out of the stupidity which prompted her to make such a foolish comment like that.

"Think you're so special now that you're hanging around Potter, is that it?" he hissed, grey eyes flashing menacingly.

"No. I just want my photograph."

He ignored her and continued: "Well, he doesn't even like you. You're nothing, even to a mudblood-loving loser like him."

Realizing she had found a sensitive topic, Luna told him "You seem to be giving me an awful lot of attention."

That sentence did capture his notice and he sat back down with a sigh, staring at the lake as he had been before she came. His countenance was stoic, but overall it seemed hopeless, close to humble.

Guilt was attacking her sensibilities more and more persistently as she observed Draco. She had allowed herself pleasure at another's sorrow, when she should feel pity that he had a cause to be sorrowful. She knew she would earn no respect of his for asking forgiveness, but she would regain self-respect, and that was worth it. The ability to apologize was what made her better than Malfoy. No amount of money, no purity of blood could do that.

Rising, she lifted her bag and said earnestly "Listen Draco...I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to use that against you. See you next year." She waited for some witty retort, but none came. In fact, there was no indication he even knew she had spoken, so she left him alone.

After dinner, she went around the castle to hang up flyers requesting the return of her possessions. Disheartened to see some of the yellow posters already crumpled on the floor or covered in graffiti, she came back to the Ravenclaw dorms to finish packing. On her pillow was the black and white photo of a beautiful woman with a young girl, who was garbed in extravagant robes and faux fairy wings, both waving in the 'princess' style.

Luna smiled faintly, her eyes misting over as she picked up the cherished picture, now in a new silver frame.

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A/N: A bit cute, hmm? Maybe I have a Draco obsession, which I assure you, has absolutely nothing to do with Tom Felton's looks. ;) Anyway, review and let me know what you think. 


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